


The Voices in My Head

by CrackingLamb



Series: One Shot Wonders, A Collection of Junkyard Dog Stories [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Attraction, Depressed Delusions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: A look at Nora's memories of her first days in Goodneighbor.





	The Voices in My Head

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one shot, but it came out way longer than I expected, so it's in two parts. Guess I didn't realize just how much of a hot mess she was in those days; my imagination ran a little wild. Look for Part Two soon.  
> *Edit - I have changed the overall title of these first two parts of this collection*
> 
> Corresponds with 'Chapter One - Safe' in Junkyard Dogs

_I wish I’d never woken up_ , she thought.

_This world sucks dead donkey balls._

_This bed is really comfortable, though._

_Meh, needs more pillows._

_Wait, where the hell am I?_

She tried to remember everything that had happened to her in the last few days. Super mutants in the library, the protectrons and turrets, the mutant hounds, the slaughter and blood bags and filth and destruction and skeletons…it was beyond grotesque, what her world had become. She remembered the board she’d taken to the ribs, the gash in her leg that wouldn’t stop aching. The never ending exhaustion and hunger and the utter defeat in the eyes of every man, woman and child she came across, until she came back to them and told them they were safe. She remembered the looks of renewed faith, then, in the Minutemen, in life. She had none for herself, but if she could fake it enough to make others sleep easier, she would.

But she couldn’t remember where she was right now.

She remembered more of what happened to her, after she left the library. Daisy’s shocked expression at seeing her. The warm, motherly hug she’d given her, and the discount on the ammo she’d bought. She let herself relive those memories instead of worrying over her current state.

***

“You go on down to the Third Rail and have a drink on me,” the salty sweet ghoul said, pressing caps into her hand. “Go on now. And talk to Charlie if you need more work. I think he’s got something needs doing.”

“All right,” Nora sighed. She didn’t really want to take on any more dangerous work; she just wanted to get better, but she needed the caps if she was going to get her trade route up and running from Sanctuary to Tenpines. And the Abernathy’s needed a new water pump. And Starlight Drive-In needed new turrets. And…

_God, it never ends._

_One drink won’t kill you, Nora_ , a familiar voice said loud and clear in her thoughts. So she limped to the Third Rail after sending Dogmeat to the Rexford Hotel with her pack and carefully levered herself down the stairs. There was another ghoul there, this one in a tuxedo. He was handsome, in a ghoul way, and she smiled automatically.

_God, this town's full of ghouls.  I may never leave._

“Whitechapel Charlie serves the drinks, I take care of the drunks,” the ghoul growled.

“O…okay, thanks. I promise I won’t be any trouble,” she said, going for disarming, not knowing it came out endearing. “And what’s your name?”

“Ham.”

“Hello, Ham. I’m Nora.”

“You’re that Vault dweller, right?”

“That’s right.” Man, word got around town fast, although it wasn’t that much of a shock, considering her introduction to the town was by way of the Mayor murdering a guy at her feet. And oh, what a Mayor he was…

 _I could eat him up with a spoon_.

 _Nora, really? Get a grip, woman_.

“Any friend of the Mayor is welcome in the Third Rail,” Ham said, gruff but…amicable?

“Well, thank you, Ham. Daisy said I should talk to Charlie about work?”

“Yeah, go on down. He’s behind the bar.”

“Okay.” She leaned on the subway walls as she sort of slid down the stairs, her ribs screaming, her leg screaming, her head and heart screaming. She wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until death claimed her.

 _Stop it, Nora_ , the insistent voice said in her head again. _You should be used to this by now. It’s been months. This is your life now.  
_

_Fuck you_ , she thought at the voice. _Just…fuck you_.

A melodious voice wafted up the stairs when she slithered across a landing. A woman in a red dress was singing up on a makeshift stage, while scattered listeners sat around on sofas, stools and chairs. A Mr. Handy robot wearing a cocked bowler hat hovered behind the bar. Must be Charlie. She limped down the last few stairs, gritting her teeth against the pain from her various injuries and sat at the bar in front of him.

“What’ll it be, love?” the robot asked. She had been expecting a voice like Codsworth’s and was a bit surprised at how much more…working class…it was. She almost laughed out loud.

“Ah…whiskey. Neat, not that I have a choice.” The robot chuckled and poured for her. She put the caps Daisy had given her on the bar and counted them out. She took a sip of her whiskey and let it burn down her throat. Already the clamor in her head was quieter. “You’d be Charlie?”

“S’right.”

“I hear you might have work?”

“I might. I have an anonymous client what needs some dirty work done. Three locations, all here in town. Interested?”

“How much?” She’d learned early in this ruin of a world that caps were king, and bartering was an art form. _Good thing you know how to make a deal, Nora_ , the voice said. _Although the DA’s office was never quite this literally cutthroat_.

“200 caps.”

“For three locations? I’m assuming it’s a whole shebang, no witnesses kind of thing, right? Make it worth my while, Charlie.”

“All right, 250.”

“Do better. I’m also assuming this is something you can’t have talked about too widely, or it would have been done already.” The Handy looked affronted, all three cycling irises narrowing at her. She smiled sweetly, just to take the sting out of fleecing him quite so hard.

“300 caps, final offer.”

“Done.” She knocked back the whiskey and asked for another. She knocked that one back too and ordered one more. The burn was pleasant in her gut now, spreading its warmth throughout her battered, aching body. The voice in her head was silent, the ghosts at bay for the present moment.

The singer had finished her song and was stepping down from the stage, approaching the bar.

“Can I get a glass of water, Charlie?”

“Already comin’ up Miss Magnolia,” Charlie said, deftly opening a can of purified water and pouring it into a glass that looked suspiciously cleaner than any other glass at the bar. Nora smiled to herself. Some things never change, no matter the anatomy.

“You must be that Vault Dweller,” the woman said suddenly. “I’m Magnolia.”

“Nora.”

“Nice to meet you, Nora. You have that ‘I’m smarter than everyone in this place and I know it’ look about you.” Nora looked up into the beautiful face of the singer and laughed.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Intelligence is so attractive, isn’t it?” She looked Nora over. “So, what can I do for you, sugar?”

Nora was about to ask for another song, then remembered the other reason she’d come to this place. “I’m looking for Emogene Cabot. Have you seen her?”

“Glad someone’s keeping an eye on that girl,” Magnolia said. “That’s a body needs watching over. Can’t say I’ve seen her in a while. I think she ran off with that preacher that used to come in here. Ham? Could you come here for a minute?” Ham came down the stairs and stood a little ways off from the pair of them. “You remember that preacher fellow, right? What was his name?”

“Brother Thomas? Yeah, he used to come in here all the time, trying to get folks to join his crazy cult down at the river. Had to throw him out for hassling people.” He pulled a flyer from his pocket. “Here, I kept one in case we needed more info on him.”

“Thank you, Ham, you’re a doll.”

“Anything for you, miss.” The ghoul actually tipped his fingers to his forehead before heading back up the stairs. As Nora watched, she saw a red blur in the shadows. _Mayor Hancock?_

“Well, sugar, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I’d love another song.”

“All right then.”

The red blur detached itself from the shadows and stepped closer. She was right. The ghoul slid next to her at the bar, cocky, easy sexuality oozing from every wasted pore. Just what she needed. _No, no you don’t. Keep your hands to yourself, girl_ , the voice said in her mind.

_Fuck off. He’s hot and I’m single, remember?_

“Fancy meeting you here, Ms. Howard, was it?”

“Nice to see you, Mayor.” She even said it without tripping on her tongue. _Yes, nice to see you, I’d love to see all of you_ , her inner monologue drooled a little. Dammit. It was bad enough waking up to find 210 years had passed and everything and everyone she’d ever known was dead except for a self-aware, hovering robot. Why did it have to be ghouls that did it for her now? She heard Wiseman’s laughter in her ears. Holly’s too. Dammit.

“Just Hancock will do. We don’t stand on ceremony in Goodneighbor.”

Magnolia sang, Nora sipped her whiskey, feeling a bit buzzed. Hancock stood next to her, giving off heat like a blast furnace. _Why do they have to be so warm?_ her mind cried out. She’d thought she’d never be warm again after the Vault. Apparently she just hadn’t been looking in the right places.

“So, tell me about yourself, Vaultsicle.”

 _Oh that was just unfair_.

“Another time,” she managed. She couldn’t engage him in her life story. It would all pour out and he’d look at her with the same horror Wiseman and Holly had, then the sympathy would start and she didn’t think she could stand more sympathy right now. She just wanted…hell, she didn’t know what she wanted.

 _He has work for you too_ , the insistent voice of her dead husband said in her mind.

_Fuck!_

She steeled herself and looked at him. “You said you have work for me?” she asked, cool as a cucumber, right?

“Another time,” he replied, easy as pie. “Enjoy your drink.”

“I will, thank you.” _You need to get out of here, Nora. You’re gonna do something stupid and wake up to regret it_.

But she didn’t leave. She sat companionably next to the hottest ghoul she’d ever seen, like _hot_ , and finished her drink slowly, listening to Magnolia. After a while she calmed down. After a while she almost felt like herself again. Nate’s voice slid away into silence.

She stood up and the pain she’d nearly forgotten came back and bit her in the ass so hard she nearly fell over. The Mayor’s arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist, fingers carefully wrapped into the material of her jacket as if he didn’t want to touch her bare skin. God, he moved fast.

“You’re hurt,” he said softly.

“It’s not that bad,” she insisted.

“Bullshit. You can’t even stand up. Let me help.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to snap at him, but it totally didn’t come out right. All she could hear was the sound of her own pain. _Shit, shit, shit_. There was no way she’d make it to the Rexford on her own. She should have gone straight to that medic that was in the Memory Den. She should have used some of those chems she’d found that were unhelpfully in her pack back in her room with Dogmeat.

“Look, I know you don’t know me from a hole in the ground, but while you’re in my town, you’re my guest, and I take care of my guests.” He sounded truly concerned and it burned through her pain.

“How?”

“I got some chems and at least clean bandages in the State House.” She searched his face, speculatively.

“Scout’s honor you won’t try anything…shady?” She could have bitten off her own tongue. Of course she’d say something like that. _Do something shady, Mayor, I dare you. I double dog dare you. Please…?_

“What’s a scout go to do with…Never mind. Let me help you. Daisy would have my hide if I didn’t at least offer, after what you did for her.”

“You know about that?” she asked, shocked. Was he keeping tabs on her?

“Sister, nothing happens in Goodneighbor that I don’t hear about. Now c’mon. We’re going upstairs.”

“Okay, fine. But I’m keeping my gun handy.” Just because he was hot didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. And she wasn’t an idiot.  Truly, she wasn't.  She was just horny.

He kept his arm around her, supporting her weight as they moved away from the bar to a door she hadn’t even seen. It was dark in that corner. Perfect spot… She shut off that line of thinking and stiffened up involuntarily. _What in God’s name is wrong with you, Nora?_ Nate shouted in her head.  _In public?_

 _I’m lonely and you’re dead and I haven’t had sex in 210 years!_ she shouted back.

Then she wanted to laugh at herself. It wasn’t like her body knew it had been that long, only her head. Her body didn’t have a clue what century she was in. She’d been awake for over six months, and had spent most of it run so ragged that even if she’d found someone she deemed ‘safe’ enough to sleep with, she didn’t have the energy. _So why is he different?_

 _Because most every ghoul you’ve met remembers life before the bombs. You have a connection to them that you have with no one else,_ Nate’s voice was a sad whisper now _. You left your humanity behind in a frozen pod. You are just a shell, empty and cold. You just want to feel warm again_.

From what she’d heard, though, Hancock wasn’t pre-war. _Doesn’t matter_ , Nate’s voice was in her ear, whispering still. _You’re attuned to them now_.

“Relax. I just like to keep my private door hidden.” She couldn’t tell if he knew she was fantasizing about him in her head or not. But his concern sounded genuine. She made an effort to behave like the proper adult that she was, and not like a drunken floozy.

There were stairs, of course there were stairs. They were underground in a metro station for fuck’s sake. She gritted her teeth and started to climb. She made it into the basement of the State House, the sound of the bar locked away behind the closed door behind them. The State House was hushed, although she knew there were guards at every door, on every level. She’d already taken a look around once when he wasn’t in. She took a deep breath and looked up those spiral stairs, dizzy from her pain and the whiskey she’d drunk too fast on an empty stomach.

“Fuck it,” he snarled under his breath and lifted her right into his arms. She was so surprised she barely had time to register it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, breathless.

“Vaultsicle, you’d never make it up those stairs, and I ain’t aimin’ to heal your hurts in front of all my guards, ya dig? Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“You don’t have to carry me. I can walk.” She forced some common sense into her tone. _He’s a bloody, fucking stranger, you mess on two legs. You trying to get yourself killed here?_

_Maybe!_

“Pfft, yeah, sure, you can walk,” he drawled sarcastically. “You’re in no shape for anything. And I don’t do unwilling. Relax.” He didn’t know. He honest to God didn’t know how much she wanted to rip off his… _Maybe he’s_ not _into you_ , the voice was sneaky now. _Maybe he’s just being kind_. She forced herself to breathe and calmed her racing heart. She slid her arm around his neck and let him carry her up the stairs without saying a word.

His 'office' was a broad room, filling more than half of the upper story of the building. He waved a hand at the junkies lounging about on his sofas after he put her on her feet and let her go.  The junkies slunk away in sullen silence. She was cold without his heat against her anymore. But it shocked her out of her dumbfounded state of arousal. _You’re drunk, Nora_ , Nate’s voice sneered in her head in a way he never would have dreamed of doing in life. _Look at you, drunk and broken_.

_Shut up! Leave me alone!_

“Sit down,” Hancock threw over his shoulder. “Let’s see what we can do for you.” She pivoted and carefully eased herself onto the firmer of the two sofas. She wondered if he’d put her in front of that one on purpose, knowing the other was too…inviting.

“I don’t take a lot of…chems,” she said. She still wasn’t used to that word. Drugs, they’re drugs. No, they’re _chems_ now.

“It’s all right. I won’t make you overdose. I’ve done plenty, so I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ve heard stories,” she said absently, utterly relaxing into the sofa cushions. He may be one hell of a hot ghoul, with a reputation that blistered her ears, but at least he had comfy furniture to go with it. She wasn’t complaining. She pulled off her hat and let her hair down. That tight bun she kept it in under her hat always gave her a headache.

“Here,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Give me your arm.”

He wiped down her arm and found a vein. The slim purple syringe slid in like a knife through butter and she felt the chem hit her bloodstream, burning. Then…blissful relief. The pain disappeared like she’d been dipped in something warm and fluffy.

“Oh,” she whispered. “It’s like morphine.”

“Better?” he asked, almost sounding like he was laughing.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You ever get that leg looked at?” he asked suddenly.

“I cleaned it up myself.” Horribly, terribly, but she’d done it. Never again, she promised herself. Never again would she sew herself up just to save a few caps.

“You get hurt often, sister?”

“I never used to…before. But…” _But this world is violent and bloody and everything wants to kill me and eat me. And maybe not in that order._

“This world ain’t for the fainthearted,” he said into her silence. She just nodded. “Can I take a look?”

She opened one eye and looked at him. He wanted to look at her wounds. He sounded legitimately concerned. But she couldn’t resist, she was too drunk to resist. “Is that your way of getting me out of my pants?”

 _Goddamn all whiskey_.

“Nah, just want to make sure you don’t have an infection.” His face was perfectly straight, like it hadn’t even occurred to him. Maybe he _wasn’t_ interested. But that didn’t seem right. He’d all but licked his lips over her when she first stumbled into his little town. Pfft. She knew she was too drunk and high to analyze it and she just waved a hand airily.

“Sure, whatever.” She scooted down on the sofa so she could undo the buttons running down the front of her leather pants and shove them down her hips all in one motion. It didn’t even hurt to move anymore. It didn’t hurt to breathe. She felt like she could fly.

“Shit,” he said.

She knew what it looked like. Her thigh had been split open at least an inch deep and all around the jagged tear it was bruised. An entire rainbow of colors was coming up now. Goddamned super mutants and those boards they loved so much they put nails in them. Then it had to go and get stuck up under her armor piece, tearing her to shreds when she pulled it out. Just thinking about it was starting to make her feel light headed and she dropped her head onto the back of the sofa and let him do what he wanted. She honestly didn’t care anymore.

_I just don’t want to wake up in pain anymore, Mayor. Got a chem for that?_

“You want to wrap that up, at least?”

“I guess.” And she passed out…


End file.
